A New Downhill Legend?
by Kevin Griffis
Summary: A new downhill racer appears on the scene, driving a nearly-stock NB8C Roadster. Takumi, seeking a challenge after a string of lackluster opponents, accepts a battle that may very well end in his defeat.


Takumi downshifted again, glancing in the rearview mirror at Ryosuke's FC, noticing a new set of headlights that were rapidly overtaking the both of them. His eyes narrowed, wondering at what it could be. Whatever it was, it passed the FC effortlessly, making full use of its small size to get by. Takumi watched it shoot past him and caught a quick glimpse of a white curvy body, a black convertible top, and a flash of red tail lights before it was gone.

"Roadster?" he asked, before pushing his foot to the floor and giving chase. As they raced down Mt. Akina, Takumi began to notice a few things about the car and its driver.

"Good tires, good shocks, no antilock brakes," he noted as they dove into a particularly tight corner, the Roadster's front left tire locking up for half a second, tiresmoke billowing from the wheel well and the car pulling violently to the left before recovering.

"Hasty. That's a dangerous mistake to make on the mountain," Takumi said, backing off the throttle to remove pressure from the strange driver. The Roadster recovered quickly and began to speed up again, weaving from side to side and occasionally tapping its brakes, trying to lure Fujiwara into racing. Takumi shook his head and pulled up alongside the white convertible and looked over. The other driver smiled and waved his hand, then pointed forward and revved his engine. Takumi shook his head and drew back, letting the car drive past. Down at the base of Mt. Akina the Roadster had disappeared, but the FC pulled up behind Takumi's hachi-roku, and Ryosuke rolled down his window to speak with Fujiwara.

"Who was that?" Ryosuke asked.

"I don't know, I've never seen him before. A good driver though, even if he was a little shaky. He locked up one of his tires, almost lost the car," Takumi said.

"Hmm. Well, not much else to do about it at the moment. Fujiwara, Fumihiro just sent me a message. A nearby team has a downhill racer interested in taking a crack at you."

"What kind of car?" Takumi asked, smiling at the idea of a challenge.

"An Autozam AZ-1."

"What?"

"It's a kei-car, like the Cappucino. Mid-engine, rear wheel drive, about 720 kilograms. I don't know about the engine or what they've done to it, but the driver is good. I've seen his name on a number of circuit races," Ryosuke said.

"Fine. Where are we racing?" Takumi asked.

"It's up to you, but he wants to race on Akina. You may not realize it, Fujiwara, but it's become the goal of every street racer out there to defeat you on Mt. Akina's downhill. Shall I tell Fumihiro to arrange it?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. You know that Project D is done and disbanded, but I can spare you a few of the Red Suns to bring tires and tech for you, and Fumihiro to officiate. I'll let him know, and he'll get in touch with you about the day," Ryosuke said, rolling up his window and driving off, intent on treating Tatsuya to dinner in honor of their race. Takumi watched the FC disappear around the corner and sighed to himself, shaking his head.

"A racer's job is never done," he murmured before heading home. Pulling into the driveway at home he glanced at the empty space where the Subaru usually sat, noticed that the lights were off and the grate out front had been pulled down, and frowned. Whenever the Impreza was missing past 2 AM it usually meant new tires were going to be on the door step within a few days.

Opening the door and locking it behind him, he walked into the kitchen, made himself a quick meal, and sat down with a glass of water and a car magazine.

"Late night?" his father asked, walking in and stealing Takumi's sandwich.

"Yes. What's an Autozam?"

"A brand of Mazda. A new opponent?" Bunt asked.

"An AZ-1."

"Hmm," Bunta said, draining Takumi's glass of water, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and trudging upstairs. Takumi glanced at his plate and empty glass, sighed, and returned to the kitchen.

"What's your name?" Takumi asked, looking at the fellow standing opposite him with a critical gaze.

"Kiyoshi Haruto. Are you really Fujiwara Takumi, of Project D?" he asked, glancing at the hachi-roku as if to assure himself.

"I am. I was told you wished to race. As you know, Project D succeeded in its goal of dominating Japan, so we disbanded. I'm here as myself, with assistance from a few members of the Red Suns. From what I was told, you accepted to the rules given."

"We did."

"We?" Takumi asked, looking around.

"Never mind," Haruto said, shaking his head. "Anyway, are you okay with a leader-chaser battle downhill?"

"Of course," Takumi replied. Haruto held out two short pieces of paper, clasped tight in his hand.

"What's this for?"

"You pick one. Whichever is longer gets the lead position. We try to be fair." Takumi's eyes narrowed at the use of the word 'we' again, but he took a piece of paper and wasn't surprised when it was revealed he had pulled the long piece.

"Alright," Haruto said. "You lead, I'll follow. If I can overtake you on the way down, I win. Sound fair?"

"Yeah," Takumi said, retreating to his hachi-roku. The two cars lined up under the guidance of Fumihiro and Kenta, engines revving over and over. The red Autozam looked impressive, a Mazdaspeed edition, with a number of tricks and extensive tuning. It was far more powerful than stock, equipped with a larger turbocharger and a significantly reworked cylinder head being the most potent of the numerous modifications to the engine. Takumi listened to his opponent's blowoff valve and smiled. It would be an interesting race.

Fumihiro stood up front, his arm raised high.

"San! Ni! Ichi! GO!" he roared, throwing down his hand and leaping out of the way as Takumi's hachi-roku exploded into motion, its tires screaming for traction and the engine wailing up to its spine-tingling redline. The Autozam lurched forward, chugged for a moment, and then accelerated faster than the AE86 as its turbocharger spun up. By the first corner the Autozam had almost passed the hachi-roku, but slowing down for the corner it began to fade. The Trueno dove into the corner at full speed, Takumi balancing the car perfectly, enjoying the engine's new tune and the newfound precision it gave him. The throttle response was crisp and exact, exactly what he needed to unlock the final abilities of the hachi-roku.

"This is the first time I've driven you in a battle since the tune," Takumi said to his beloved AE86, pushing harder and harder, enjoying the wonderful feeling that was transmitted through the wheel and into his hands. Glancing in his rearview mirror Takumi frowned. The Autozam was nowhere in sight. Shaking his head, Takumi continued down Mt. Akina, using it as a chance to learn more about the hachi-roku. At the bottom of the mountain Takumi pulled over and waited for the Autozam, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. There was a tap on his window, and with a sudden jolt Takumi recognized the man as the driver of the Roadster.

"Racing?" the stranger asked.

"I was. My opponent seems to have stopped for dinner," Takumi replied, smiling slighly at his attempt at a joke.

"I've been watching your racing career for a while now," the stranger said. "I'm impressed. We should battle at some point. I promise I won't stop for lunch on the way down," he added.

"What's your name?" Takumi asked, glancing at the white Roadster parked off the road.

"Oh, my name is Masaru Itsuto. You've seen my car before. It's not all that great, but it's good enough for fun."

"It seems like fun. Why did you lock up your tire though? You almost lost control of your car," Takumi asked, noticing out of the corner of his eye that the red Autozam was limping past, wearing a spare tire on the left rear rather than its normal alloy.

"I don't have ABS, and I overcooked the corner. I wish I hadn't, because now I've got a flat spot in the tire. I rotated the wheels around to lessen the impact, but it still bumps, and that's a pain when you're trying to autocross," Itsuto said, chuckling to himself.

"I assume you want to race on Akina," Takumi said. Itsuto shook his head.

"Irohazaka," Itsuto said, smiling at Fujiwara's confused but happy expression.

"Why there? Is that your home course?"

"No, not really. I just like racing there. It's a one way street so you don't have to worry about someone coming the other direction and hitting you," Itsuto answered. "Anyway, next Saturday around 10 PM? I'd like to have some fun."

"Okay," Takumi said. "Next Saturday, 10 PM, Irohazaka."

"I think your challenger is ready for his rematch. Good luck," he said, walking off to his car. The Autozam pulled up again, its window rolling down quickly.

"Sorry about that," his challenger said, "my tire went flat. Would you be interested in racing again?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure," Takumi said, his eyes watching the Roadster disappear from his rearview mirror.

Ryosuke sat down at the booth in the diner, sipped from his cup of coffee, and after setting it back down again he looked at Fujiwara.

"So how does the life of being a legend suit you?" he asked calmly, eyes flashing with the hint of a smirk. Takumi blushed and choked a bit on his coffee before he could reply.

"I don't think I'm a legend."

"Others do, and that's what counts in this field," Ryosuke answered.

"It's kind of boring at the moment. I haven't really been challenged by anyone the last few times I've raced. One of my challengers had a flat tire during the middle of a battle," Takumi complained.

"Unfortunate. Who have you raced against so far?"

"An Autozam AZ-1, an MR2, and an AE92. I did get an interesting offer though."

"An interesting offer?" Ryosuke asked.

"Mmm. A Roadster. They're Mazda too, aren't they?"

"Yes. The car has been sold under the Eunos name, but yes, it is a Mazda. You've raced a first generation NA6C once, remember?"

"I do, the red one. This one is white, but its headlights don't pop up."

"A second generation then, probably an NB8C. Do you know what's been done to it?" Ryosuke asked, curious about the potential competitor.

"No, but it's not a lot. He complained about it being relatively stock. He races though."

"What kind of racing?"

"Autocross and gymkhana," Takumi said.

"Hmm. What course?"

"Irohazaka."

Ryosuke leaned back in his seat and sighed, gazing at Takumi over the table with a concerned look in his eyes. Sitting forward again he picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip before speaking.

"I believe you'll meet your challenge," he said.

"Why?" Takumi asked, confused that his mentor should seem so disturbed.

"Normally your hachi-roku would be more than capable of handling an NB8C, especially one tuned for such racing, but the course choice makes this difficult for you."

"How come?" Takumi asked. "I don't understand why it would be so difficult."

"A car that has been tuned for autocross has been tuned for extremely technical and difficult courses, often changing directions multiple times in under a second. The average autocross course has more turns per second than an average Formula One course. As a result, any decent autocross driver will have incredible reflexes. A car tuned for autocross has a sizable weakness, however. There are class rules which limit the modifications allowed, and as a result, the car is not optimized. On any ordinary course, like Akagi or Akina, you would be able to exploit that weakness and win easily. On a tight course like Irohazaka, the hachi-roku might very well be doomed." Ryosuke picked up his cup again, and studied Fujiwara's reaction carefully. Provoking him in such a manner usually guaranteed a battle, no matter how skewed the odds. The Roadster would be no match for Takumi's fully tuned AE86, but it was time to test Fujiwara's abilities to handle mindgames.

"I said I would race him," Takumi said slowly, "so I will race him. I've had greater challenges before and I've won. Besides, he locked up his tire under braking. Even if the car is good, his skill as a driver is less than my own."

"If that's the case, then I wish you luck. Do you mind if I observe?" Ryosuke asked.

"No, you can watch. Tell me some more about the NB8C. What are some weaknesses you think I can exploit?" Takumi asked.

"Well, the car is light but not as light as your hachi-roku. Its engine revs to 7250 RPM before the computer cuts fuel, while you can push 12,000 RPMs without issue. Both cars are front engine rear wheel drive, with a fifty fifty weight balance. The hachi-roku has MacPherson struts in front and a four-link live axle rear suspension, while the NB8C has double A-arm suspension at all four corners for less weight and better response. One limitation you'll be running into, Takumi, is the fact that your car came from the factory designed as an economy car, and through your father and Project D it was tuned to be a performance car. The Roadster was designed from the ground up as a performance vehicle, giving your challenger a far better base to build from. Do not be surprised when I tell you, Fujiwara, that with the addition of a swaybar and new shock absorbers, which is allowed within the rules he races under, he has as good a suspension as you."

"Really?" Takumi asked, shocked.

"Yes."

"So what can I exploit?"

"You must drive like Kyouichi. Keep up during the difficult hairpins, jumping if you have to. When the slope flattens out, use your superior power to overtake him. It will not be the clean win that you're fond of, Fujiwara, but it is the only way I can see you winning the battle. A warning, though."

"What?"

"Because of the numerous reconstructions and rebuilds your car has endured, the body isn't as strong as it used to be. The cage reinforces it enough for your normal style of driving, but jumping the car will place an extremely high stress load on your strut mounts and the mounting points for your rear axle. If you jump too much, the struts up front will punch through the sheetmetal and the hachi-roku will be well and truly finished," Ryosuke said gloomily.

"How many jumps do I have?"

"Two."

"That's not a lot. It seems that this will be a very challenging race. I'm surprised, I thought it would be easier. I'm happy. This must be how you feel on a regular basis," Fujiwara said.

"How do you mean?"

"There are so few people who can approach your level of skill to make a battle truly exciting, get your blood really pumping."

"Hmm, something like that," Ryosuke chuckled, finishing his cup and standing up. The two left and walked outside to their cars. Takumi looked at the AE86 and rested his hand on the hood, looking at it carefully.

"So if I jump too much, the car is destroyed?" he asked.

"Yes. The struts will push through the sheetmetal that they bolt to, damaging the front end of the vehicle even more than before. Putting it back together again will require another hachi-roku as a donor, so we can cut it up and transplant parts. Doing so will fix the car, but there will always be weakness where it was welded together. It will also add more weight to the front end of the hachi, which will disrupt your balance."

"Not good."

"No, it isn't. Anyway, good luck, Fujiwara." Ryosuke stepped into his FC, started the engine, and drove off. Takumi watched him go, sighed, and sat down in the hachi-roku, resting his hand on the steering wheel.

"What have I gotten you into?"

Nakazato looked over at Sayuki and smiled. Their argument was over, the R34 was once more in tune, and with his navigator in the passenger seat, Nakazato and the black R34 were unstoppable. At that very moment they were driving up Mt. Myogi, chasing after Mako and Iketani in Impact Blue in order to keep in practice.

"Ready for the downhill?" Sayuki asked once they were at the peak, digging her elbow into Mako's stomach.

"Can you keep up?" Mako challenged with a smile.

"With Nakazato driving and my navigation, I don't think you'll be able to keep up. Why don't you take the lead, Mako, and we'll try and pass you? More of a challenge that way," Sayuki responded. Iketani glanced at Nakazato and wondered. Takeshi Nakazato was a feared driver, ruthlessly intelligent and surgically precise, and his R34 was the most powerful known car in Gunma, and yet he listened to and obeyed Sayuki without question whenever it came to driving.

The two cars lined up, and Mako's SilEighty took off without warning. Iketani braced himself as he felt the g-forces start to wash over his body, his heart racing as Mako dove deep into every corner, pushing harder and harder to build a sizable lead before the R34 would devour it. At the starting line, Sayuki glanced up from her stopwatch and nodded. Nakazato revved the RB26DETT to the redline, dropped the clutch, and felt the monstrous black R34 lunge forward, pushing her deeply into the seat. They thundered down Mt. Myogi, slicing through the corners with ease.

"Brake late, go to full throttle and use minimal countersteer," Sayuki commanded, and true to her direction the R34 dove deep into the corner before switching to full throttle, rear tires sliding over a patch of sand that had been left from the winter storms and correcting the car's angle, pointing it precisely for the next corner.

"That didn't take them long," Iketani said, twisting around in his seat to watch the headlights rapidly approaching.

"Iketani, that's not Nakazato," Mako replied, glancing up to her rearview mirror for a moment before focusing on the road once more.

"Well, if it's not Nakazato, who is it?" he asked, noticing that Mako's driving style was changing to the intense, highly-focused style she used exclusively during intense combat.

"I'm not sure, but they're driving well." A white blur shot past them, diving into the corner and drifting through with such perfection it made Mako's eyes water.

"Takahashi Ryosuke!"

Itsuki glanced out the window at the gas station and saw a low white convertible waiting patiently by one of the pumps. Running outside he bowed down to the open window.

"How can I help you?"

"Do you know a guy that drives on Mt. Akina in an old Trueno?"

"I've heard of him," Itsuki said, keeping silent. His big mouth had gotten Takumi in trouble before, and although it had taken him over a year he knew when to remain quiet.

"I wanted to remind him that we have a race on Saturday. Do you think you could relay the message to him for me?"

"Yeah," Itsuki replied. "Do you need gas?"

"Ten liters of high octane. You do have high octane, right?" Itsuto asked. Itsuki nodded.

"I like your car. What is it?" Itsuki asked.

"It's a Roadster, NB8C. What do you drive?"

"An AE85," Itsuki said, hanging his head and bracing himself for the teasing. The insults never came. Itsuto nodded his head, smiling.

"I like those cars. We should race sometime."

"Really?!"

"Yeah, why not?" Itsuto said, handing over the money for his fuel. Itsuki looked at his watch and then back at the Roadster.

"I'm done with my shift in five minutes. Are you interested?"

"Very. Do you mind if I adjust my tire pressures while you're getting ready?" Itsuto asked, getting out of his car.

"Boss!" Itsuki shouted, running inside.

"What?" Yuichi replied, peering over the top of his newspaper.

"I need off. Do you mind if I make up the hours tomorrow?" Itsuki asked excitedly.

"That's fine with me. Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"There's someone outside that wants to challenge Takumi, but he likes my hachi-go and wants to race on Mt. Akina," Itsuki said, changing out of his uniform as fast as he could and back into street clothes.

"Be careful," Yuichi said. "What kind of car is he driving?"

"A Roadster." Yuichi felt a smile spreading across his face.

"You should do fine, Itsuki. Just keep your patience and use grip driving and you'll win," he said, chuckling to himself as he went back to reading the paper.

"I've never raced on Mt. Akina before, or against an AE85. This should be fun. How do you race?" Itsuto asked cheerfully, leaning on the fender of his little convertible.

"The way we race on Akina is usually first over the line wins, although when the roads are narrower we use a leader chaser style. Takumi usually races that way, leader and chaser. He likes it since there's more of a challenge," Itsuki said.

"Oh, okay. So how do you win that style?"

"If the leader puts too much distance on the chaser, or if the chaser overtakes the leader. That's how Takumi won a number of his battles. Ready to race?" Itsuki asked.

"Yes," Itsuto said calmly, a strange look in his eye.

The two cars lined up side by side, but Itsuto rolled down his window.

"You lead, I'll chase. Sound good?"

"Okay," Itsuki replied. The AE85 revved up, its single cam turbo motor wheezing with power, the turbocharger's blowoff valve hissing in the growing dark. Letting off his emergency brake Itsuki put his foot to the floor and popped the clutch, his hachi-go lunging forward with tire-spinning torque. Itsuto watched the AE85 and began counting to himself, tapping his fingers on the wheel. At twenty seconds, he revved the engine and gave chase.

"I don't like doing this, but it's necessary for my plan," he said, his eyes narrowing until they were dark angry slits. Within five corners the Roadster had come up on the AE85, and Itsuto began analyzing Itsuki's driving.

"Slow, rough, uncoordinated. If this is what the great Fujiwara Takumi is like then I should be sponsored in no time," he said, bringing the Roadster closer and closer until he sighed and let his foot off the throttle, falling behind again.

"I can't overtake him, remember that," he said to himself, taking a slightly slower line through the corner and braking a bit too early. Nothing obvious, but it was taking a decent amount of work to stay behind the AE85.

"Alright, here's my chance," he said, pushing the throttle wide open and nudging his Roadster's bumper in between Itsuki's rear quarter panel and the guard rail, boxing in the hachi-go. Itsuki glanced in his rearview mirror at the disappearing headlights and moved into action, drifting through the corner in order to block both the inner and outer path and keeping Itsuto behind. Itsuto smiled, impressed that the amateur could successfully complete such a maneuver. With his goal achieved, he tuned out and followed the hachi-go down the mountain in a robotic manner, listening to the radio in a bored manner. At the base of Mt. Akina, after giving Itsuki another half-hearted attempt at passing, he just narrowly lost.

Itsuki was overjoyed, dancing in place and pumping his fists to the sky.

"Good battle!" Itsuto said, shaking his hand.

"This is awesome, I can't believe I won!" Itsuki cried. "Wait until I tell Takumi!" A cold animalistic smile crawled across Itsuto's face before it dissolved into a simple smirk.

"Yes, give him all the details," he said. "It was good racing with you, Itsuki. You gave me and my Roadster a fair workout. I hope to meet you again someday." And with that, he left.

"I'm confused," Takumi said. Ryosuke looked at Fujiwara with sleepy eyes.

"Why?" he asked.

"This person wants to race me, the one you said was so great and deadly, and yet Itsuki beat him. I don't want to hurt his feelings, but Itsuki isn't the greatest driver. I can beat him anytime, without waking up all the way. If he could defeat Masaru Itsuto, what kind of challenge is he going to be for me?"

"Maybe your friend has improved?" Ryosuke suggested. He knew the answer, and had used the strategy himself, but Fujiwara was still under his tutelage and this was a good learning experience.

"No. Itsuki hasn't improved at all. He locks up a tire under braking, he's defeated by Itsuki of all people, and yet he thinks he's a challenge. I'm pissed," Takumi said angrily.

"Pissed?" Ryosuke asked, wondering how far he could manipulate Fujiwara.

"Yes, pissed. I wanted a challenge, and I thought I was getting one. Now I find out I'm not getting a challenge at all, just another mercy race."

"Mercy race?" he asked with a chuckle.

"I don't want to tell people no, so I accept most of the races," Takumi said.

"Most?"

"There are some even I won't race."

"So, Fujiwara, are you still going to race Itsuto?" Ryosuke asked.

"I think so. It's been a while since I've gone to Irohazaka, it could be fun. The engine is acting differently too. Did I tell you about that?"

"No," Ryosuke said, leaning forward with an interested expression on his face. Anything touched by Kitami Jun had some strange otherwordly quality about it.

"The engine doesn't have trouble running in the cold now, and it idles great. It feels more responsive, and it kind of feels like there's a little bit more torque," Takumi said.

"Well, we can test that in about ten minutes," Ryosuke replied.

"How?"

"A dyno test. You put your drive wheels on a big roller and spin it. A computer calculates the amount of horsepower and torque you're making after drivetrain losses."

"Can we do that?" Takumi asked. Ryosuke nodded.

A short while later the hachi-roku was strapped down to the dyno, its rear wheels spinning the massive drum that formed the machine.

"Okay, we've got a good tach signal. Go ahead and work through the gears, shifting at 2000 RPMs, and then when you're in fourth gear open the throttle all the way until you hit the limiter. When you hit the limiter, let your foot off the gas and take the car out of gear," Ryosuke said, resting his hand on the sill of the open door as the dyno operator worked in the background. Takumi nodded, and at the signal he began to rev up.

"Again!" Ryosuke ordered, staring at the printout with a confused look on his face. After the second run, he gave the word for a final run with the hood off and a massive fan blowing directly on the engine instead of through the grill as before. When Takumi climbed out of the car he noticed that Ryosuke was deeply confused.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"You said you felt that the car is faster, didn't you?" Ryosuke asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Fujiwara, these charts are showing that you've lost power. A substantial amount of power. With a drivetrain efficiency of fifteen percent, you're making only 250 HP. You've lost fifty horsepower and yet you say you're driving faster. Something's wrong. Hey, are you sure this equipment is calibrated?" Ryosuke asked the dyno operator. As the elder Takahashi spoke with the operator, Takumi looked at his AE86, still restrained by the massive nylon straps and hold-downs. To be faster with less power...

Itsuto got out of his Roadster and looked down Irohazaka. It was the perfect choice, the perfect trap. Every driver in Gunma knew of Fujiwara Takumi and the undefeatable AE86. Some even swore that fate watched over the two, sabotaging any potential challenger. Itsuto didn't believe in fate, but he did believe in strategy.

"He's seen me lock up a tire under braking, and he knows I've been defeated by his poorly skilled friend," Itsuto said to himself, "so he won't approach this challenge with the same amount of caution he would otherwise. I have the perfect course that favors my car and hurts his. If I can defeat Fujiwara, I'll definitely be offered a sponsorship. And if I don't get a sponsorship, I'll get his car." Itsuto laughed, the thought of success racing through him.

"I do this for honor," he said, kneeling down and touching the front bumper of his Roadster. "We would have won the championship last year if I had the money that my competitors did. No sponsor will waste his money on a loser. If I can defeat Fujiwara, they'll line up to sign me. It's only logical to stack the deck in my favor." Standing up he looked down the twisting course and smiled. "One way or another, Fujiwara will fall." Climbing in, he started the Roadster's engine and turned on his lights, enjoying the look of the tinted Mazdaspeed headlights he had installed.

"I will win!"

Takumi looked at his father's Subaru with his head cocked slightly on an angle, listening to the burble of the engine and the quiet ticking of overheated metal slowly cooling off.

"What did you do to it?" he asked. Bunta looked from the car to his son.

"I swapped the engine back," he said.

"Swapped it back? I don't understand," Takumi replied.

"Yes you do. I needed more power so I could take care of something, but now the situation is over and I have it back to where it was before. Excessive horsepower can be dangerous."

"Dangerous? What do you mean?" Takumi asked.

"Too much power on the downhill means you must tread with caution rather than rush in. You know that, and you've used that to win," Bunta said, brushing past his son and going inside. Takumi followed him in after one last look at the Impreza.

"If you swapped out the engine, what's been done to this one?" he asked. Bunta looked at him for a moment, studying him, weighing him up before he responded.

"Stock turbocharger, bigger intercooler, less restrictive intake and exhaust. Balanced engine, higher rev limit. Lightened flywheel, stronger clutch. The suspension you should already know about. Why do you ask?"

"Do you mind if I borrow it tonight?"

"What did you do to the hachi-roku?" Bunta asked suspiciously.

"Nothing. I just want to drive the Impreza tonight," Takumi admitted. He held back the fact that he wanted to test just how hard he could push the Subaru and if it would be faster than the retuned engine of the AE86. Bunta thought quietly for a few moments before finally relenting and handing over the key.

"Don't break it."

Takumi downshifted, listening to the roar of the blowoff valve, grinning madly at the massive thrust of the turbocharged engine as it shoved him deep into his seat, the Subaru's all wheel drive propelling him up Mt. Akina at breakneck speeds. It was so different from the hachi-roku. With his own beloved car it was like balancing on a tightrope, every move had to be carefully calculated so as not to overwhelm the traction of the tires and send him into a spin. With the Subaru, he could keep pouring more and more speed, driving faster and faster.

"So why was I faster in the hachi-roku than I was in this car?" he asked himself, remembering his last mental battle.

It wasn't tuning, that was for sure. The turbocharged flat four motor had been taken completely apart, blueprinted, balanced, and put back together again. The crank had been ground down a bit to remove some weight, and combined with the lightweight chromoly flywheel, the aluminum pressure plate, and the underdrive pulleys, the engine had very little mass to fight against. It revved up quickly, building boost faster than it had before thanks to a heavily ported and polished set of cylinder heads, boost-specific cams, and the free-breathing intake and exhaust.

"He must have tuned this a lot more than he told me," Takumi said, noticing once again the positively electric response of the motor and how strongly it pushed him back into his seat. Revolutions dropped instantly during every gearshift, requiring careful rev-matching and quick feet, and rewarding him with another strong rush of power.

Diving into the hairpin corner with the rear hanging slightly wide and the front wheels at minimal countersteer, Takumi smiled. The car had been tuned differently. The wheels up front were wider than those in back, that he knew, so that even though the same size tires were used on all four corners the wider wheels up front forced the tires to present a wider contact patch to the ground, with the rear contact patches narrower to allow the rear to slide. The coilover suspension had lowered the car a bit, just enough to usefully lower the center of gravity but not so much that it couldn't perform the gutter trick. As if to reassure himself Takumi dropped the inside wheels into the gutter and went to full throttle, the g-forces pulling so hard on his head that it was difficult to look straight. Strut tower braces had been added front and rear to tie in the ends of the car and make it stiffer and to protect it from the twisting forces imparted on it. Even the swaybars had been changed, a slightly larger one used up front to quicken steering response while a far more massive bar was installed out back to further dial out some of the all wheel drive platform's inherent understeer. Bunta's Impreza was wickedly fast and incredibly stable, just the platform to use for an aspiring racer.

Takumi's racing heart began to slow as he thought of his hachi-roku. Stripped down to the bare metal, reinforced with a sturdy cage, completely worked over from front bumper to rear, it was almost completely maxed out. The suspension was complete, the drivetrain was finished, the engine was in a state close to perfection, and the only thing that could be done would be to replace the doors with carbon fiber for the last few kilograms of weight to be saved. Then the ugly thoughts rose up in his mind. The front subframe had been welded twice, replaced once, and the entire front clip of the car had been ripped apart and put back together again. The front end of the hachi-roku was a weakness, and it was only going to get weaker. Ryosuke's dire warning about the struts punching through the sheet metal chilled his heart.

"I love the hachi-roku," Takumi said slowly, secretly enjoying the spine-tingling response of the Subaru's engine, "but it might be time to move on."

"So that's the state of the Red Suns at the moment," Keisuke concluded, waiting for his brother to comment. It didn't take long.

"You've done well," were Ryosuke's first words, which surprised the younger Takahashi. "I have something interesting to discuss myself."

"What's that?" Keisuke asked.

"Fujiwara has gotten himself into a very interesting battle. It takes place two days from now, against a Roadster, on Irohazaka. Can you tell me why that's an interesting situation?" Ryosuke asked.

"It's a very technical course, which favors a good-handling car. The last portion is high speed though, with a fight for first position on the final bridge. If Fujiwara can keep up during the technical portion, he should be able to win with power." Ryosuke looked at Keisuke with shining eyes, absurdly happy that his brother was finally showing the spark of intelligence and forethought required to triumph in the racing world.

"But anyone knows that. So what's the interesting bit? What made you stick your nose in Fujiwara's business this time?" Keisuke asked.

"His opponent, Masaru Itsuto, is an interesting character. He seems to have two sides, one that he's showing to Fujiwara, and one that I can see. I may be overreaching myself and seeing patterns where they do not exist, but I am of the belief that this person is manipulating Fujiwara on a level that, franky, I admire."

"Manipulate? I don't understand," Keisuke said, taking a long drink from his cup.

"He had the skill to overtake me in the FC while I was showing Tatsuya the fastest line on Akina, but at the same time, locked up a wheel and scrubbed one of his tires badly. He also managed to lose to Fujiwara's poorly-skilled friend, knowing that the race would be conveyed detail by detail. He's flooding Fujiwara with misinformation, setting him up for failure. I'm impressed."

"But Fujiwara doesn't play mindgames. He just gets in the car and drives as hard as he can," Keisuke said. "Even if this guy manages to trap him, Fujiwara has incredible recovery skills. It sounds like wasted time to me."

"And it may be, but I still admire it. Fujiwara has never encountered someone of that skill level capable of manipulation. He may find himself trapped in a serious mindgame." Keisuke looked at his brother and shook his head.

"I'm taking the Red Suns to Myogi tonight, but would you like us to show up Saturday on Irohazaka and manage the run?"

"Yes," said Ryosuke, "I think that will be necessary. Tell Fumihiro to have a flatbed truck on standby, if you would. One of those two cars will need it, it's just too early to tell which."

Itsuto revved his engine and took off, accelerating down Irohazaka as fast as he dared, feeling the g-forces wash over him in the corners as his Roadster clung to the road with all its grip.

"This is definitely much better than before," he said, pushing hard on the brakes, cranking the steering wheel over and burying the throttle, "I can't believe the swaybar made such a difference." The NB8C screamed through another hairpin, hugging the inside line tightly, minimizing the distance driven.

"When I bought this car I thought I had such an awesome machine, but it wasn't until later that I discovered it didn't come with the chassis bracing I thought it had, or the limited slip differential. I lost so many races until I figured out how to truly drive the car. Once I focused on my skill I got faster and faster, but I still ran into a wall." He fell silent for a moment as he wound out the engine in first gear, then shifted into second, keeping the clutch pedal to the floor so that the rear end would drift wide around the corner. Nanoseconds before it was too late he let off the clutch and buried the throttle, pointing the car forward and rocketing ahead.

"There's only so fast a car can go, even with great skill driving it. It took me two years of racing to learn that, driving every day in all kinds of weather and racing every weekend. I did good, and I even managed to finish in the top three, but even the best driver in an autocross can't win without some mechanical help. I loaded up my credit cards and bought the 29mm front swaybar, and that gave me just enough understeer so that I could use full throttle during the turns. It helped me shave off a full second when I was racing, and a second saved on a sixty second course is incredible." Itsuto feinted to the left then pulled hard to the right, sliding the car around the hairpin turn with all four tires in a near-perfect four wheel drift, the BP-Z3 engine screaming at 7000 RPMs.

"That swaybar helped me get second place, but it wasn't until I installed the new differential that I really started winning. 4.30:1 rear gear, Torsen limited slip, it was perfect. Legal, too. Everything had to be legal, or else they'd throw me out. They were upset when I started winning first place. I showed them though," Itsuto said with a vicious smile, exiting one corner so fast that he was able to keep up the drift all the way to the next hairpin.

"I have autocross to thank for who I am," he added, upshifting down the straight, noting the width of the track.

"I might have some difficulty here blocking him from passing," he said, speaking into the small tape recorder he had brought with him for making course notes. His smile began to fade as he noticed how long the straight was, and the final conclusion on the third bridge. He stopped at the end of the third bridge, parking his car out of the way of traffic, and examined the bridge.

"I can't ride the curb, and the guardrails aren't very strong, so if I hit I might go over. If I take the inside then I can let the g-forces push my car outwards, squeezing Fujiwara's car between my own and the guardrail. The inside line means less distance traveled as well." He fished out a measuring tape from his pocket and took three measurements, one at the beginning of the bridge, one in the middle where the lanes began to merge, and one at the end.

"If I can hold the inside line, he won't have a chance in hell. No hachi-roku can turn sharp enough to escape being crushed between my car and the wall." Feeling confident, he began walking back to his car when he noticed another one idling beside it. A black Evo III, its driver leaning on the trunk.

"Who are you?" Itsuto asked cautiously.

"Kyouichi Sudo," the stranger replied. "I'm the Emperor here at Irohazaka. I've heard about your car here racing the course every night this week for hours on end, so I thought I would come to investigate, and I find you here measuring the bridge. Who are you?"

"My name is Masaru Itsuto."

"Why are you here?" Kyouichi asked, his eyes narrow with suspicion.

"I'm going to be racing the panda Truneo of Fujiwara Takumi here on Saturday. With all the rumors about him, I figured that I needed as much practice as possible," Itsuto answered honestly, hoping that his sincerity would win free information from Sudo. He was not disappointed.

"If you're planning on forging your win on the bridge, forget it."

"Why?"

"Because," Sudo said slowly, not willing to admit it, "when I raced him here, he took the outside line and was able to turn fast enough to make it through. Rather than destroy his car and mine, I let off the throttle and lost the race." Itsuto let the surprise show on his face.

"When you race against Fujiwara, something happens, and the normal laws of physics no longer seem to apply. His tires grip the road even when the mu is low, he can drift in heavy wind, he can turn faster than his suspension should allow him. You cannot understimate him, because even when the odds are turned against him and failure seems the only way out, luck makes him win," Sudo said, shaking his head. He stole another glance at the Roadster, noting that it appeared almost entirely stock, although the muffler and headlights were visibly different than when it left the showroom floor, and the shock absorbers seemed to be bright yellow rather than black. A wild plan suddenly sprang into his mind, one that seemed so obvious and yet so insane he held his breath.

"Maybe you would do me a favor then," Itsuto was saying, "race me down the hill in the lead position, and let me observe a master of this course." Sudo looked at the young man in front of him and wondered. It was possible for Ryosuke to have a pupil, why not him?

"What style of driving do you use?" he asked.

"I learned as a grip driver, but I use drift to test out a course. It helps me to see how hard I can push the car before losing it. Practicing drift lets me recover from some very bad situations, too," Itsuto responded. Perfect.

"Let me make you an offer," Sudo said.

"What's that?" Itsuto asked.

"Keep up with me on the downhill and I'll teach you everything you could know about Irohazaka, even the home course special, so you can defeat Fujiwara."

"That's a very handsome offer, but why?" Itsuto asked, suspicious.

"Have you heard of Takahashi Ryosuke?" Sudo said.

"I have. He was a big racer back in the day, but then he retired from active racing and began managing Project D. I heard some rumors that he had raced against some of his old friends, but I've never seen him race in person."

"Then you know that Fujiwara is Ryosuke's protege, and Ryosuke and I have been bitter rivals for quite some time," Sudo said.

"I heard something about it, yes," Itsuto replied, beginning to understand the offer.

"Ryosuke has declined a rematch with me numerous times, so it seems that I have to race him in a different manner. If you can show that you have the raw material, I'll train you in the world of street racing. All you've known has been legal circuit racing, hasn't it?" Sudo asked, well aware of the answer. Itsuto seemed to lose some of his confidence and looked down at his shoes.

"I've always been afraid of breaking the law, so after my first few tickets on the street I took it to the track, and raced on circuits while I could afford it, but I couldn't manage for long. It's too expensive, so I went into the autocross world. It's cheap and I learned very quickly. The whole autocross world has such a steeper learning curve than circuit racing or the street. Corners coming at you over and over again, no room for errors, braking has to be perfect. I kind of lost my nerve when it came to racing on the streets. That's why I chose Irohazaka."

"Oh?" Sudo asked, keeping quiet. He knew if he remained silent Itsuto would divulge more information.

"One way street. Don't have to worry about oncoming cars," Itsuto said, lapsing into silence, waiting on Kyouichi to begin speaking. The two stood silently, arms folded, staring at each other for a few moments before Kyouichi stepped toward his Evo III.

"Lead back to the top, I'll follow you," he ordered, taking off with all the acceleration 350 HP and all wheel drive could give him. Itsuto dashed for his Roadster and took off after him, following the Evo III up the winding, twisting, convoluted road back to the top. Sudo came to a stop and opened his door, glancing at his wrist watch to see how long it would take the Roadster to appear. Itsuto appeared sooner than expected, giving Sudo reason to smile.

"Now you know the rules of this course, don't you?" he asked.

"The end of the bridge is the end of the course, right?" Itsuto replied.

"Close enough. There are three bridges, and the lanes merge into one on the third bridge. If you're in the lead at the end of the bridge, there are no more chances to pass. There are over thirty-seven hairpin turns coming down Irohazaka, which will give you plenty of opportunity to get ahead of Fujiwara and build a lead, but when the hairpins end, you have a few medium sweepers and then the final bridge, although technically the road continues past that. If you can build enough of a lead in the portion that favors your car, then you have a chance of withstanding his counterattack when your car is at its weakest."

"I'd like to drive soon," Itsuto said impatiently. Sudo chuckled.

"Have it your way. Try and keep up." The powerful Evo III revved up, its blowoff valve and anti-lag roaring and crackling. Itsuto's eyes widened slightly, but he got into his Roadster and revved its pathetic 1.8 liter engine, its exhaust burbling through the Mazdaspeed muffler. The Evo revved once, twice, and on the third rev it shot forward, three hundred and fifty horsepower flinging it downhill. The one hundred and forty horsepower Mazda followed it as quickly as it could. The two cars screamed downward, tires begging for mercy and brake rotors glowing red from the repeated braking as they clawed their way through the hairpins, Itsuto desperately fighting to keep up with Sudo.

It was at the 33rd hairpin that something seemed to change. Itsuto had already attempted to pass on the past four hairpins and had almost succeeded, but on the 33rd hairpin the black Evo III cut the corner early and sailed off into the air.

"He jumped it!" Itsuto shouted, wondering if Kyouichi had lost his mind. The Roadster nipped around the corner and was accelerating on the straight just in time for the Evo to land right in front of him, sparks mixing with the burst of flame from the anti-lag. He continued jumping the corners, gaining more and more on the Roadster no matter how hard Itsuto tried or what tricks he attempted, until finally, desperately, he sent his own Roadster lunging over the edge. Sudo watched in his mirror as the little convertible sailed through the air, landing on the ground rear wheels first and ripping off its muffler in the process. Itsuto felt the drag and heard the grinding metal but he was in his element now, right on the tail of the Evo. There was a sudden jerk forward as the remains of the muffler broke free and the engine got much louder, but aside from the unpleasant heat under his feet he continued to fight.

Screaming sideways through the 38th hairpin he managed to tuck into the inside and pass the Evo, putting almost an entire car length on him before he had to slow for the next turn, where he jammed on the brakes as hard as he could and tucked in behind the Evo, cutting Sudo off and taking the inside for the next hairpin. In this manner he had a somewhat decent lead built on his chaser, but the long straights were beginning to appear and even with his foot firmly to the floor the Roadster and its 140 HP couldn't possibly compete with the 350 HP monster he was racing against. They passed under the first bridge and over the second, and with the final approach to the third bridge in sight Itsuto began to feel a sense of fate overwhelming him. The hot floorboard could only mean that most of the exhaust system downstream of the header had been ripped off, which would also explain the deafening noise that assaulted his ears, reaching him over the screaming of the engine or the pained wail of the tires.

His engine was stretched out at its max, the needle buried deeply in the red, and yet he was still losing ground to the Evo. There was nothing else he could do. He was at full throttle, driving the line perfectly without error, and he was losing. His oil pressure gauge twitched, an ominous warning of what was to come. As they screamed over the third bridge, there was a muffled explosion from under the hood, oil spattering over the window and every light on the dash lit up as the tachometer dropped to zero. Putting in the clutch and spinning the car out he was able to come to a stop without crashing, and he sat on the side of the road with fingers buried deep in the wheel's leather until he could finally relax. The Evo III eventually returned, and Sudo rushed over.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

"Only my pride," Itsuto responded. "And my wallet."

"An engine blow?"

"Yeah, pretty bad," Itsuto answered. "Can you call someone to tow my car? A friend of mine has a shop nearby. We're going to have to be very busy tonight and tomorrow if I'm going to have this car ready to race on Saturday."

"It's impossible to rebuild an engine in that amount of time," Sudo said. Itsuto looked sadly at the oil-streaked white fenders of his car, sighed, and shook his head before responding.

"This was supposed to be my last season racing in the stock class. I was going to upgrade the car for a street modified class that would allow a number of modifications. Over the course of the winter I've been building up a replacement engine, as well as collecting some necessary suspension and body pieces. I hadn't wanted to replace my exhaust though," he said, lying on the ground and looking sadly at the twisted steel left dangling just past the header, then standing up and gazing at the gouged and scraped rear bumper.

"These things can't be helped," Sudo said. "At least you're prepared."

"I know, but I wanted to defeat Fujiwara like this, not with my new setup. There's no honor in defeating an inferior car."

"Fujiwara, your opponent may be more dangerous than you think," Ryosuke said during what had become their almost daily meeting at the diner.

"How so?" Takumi asked, interested.

"A wrecker was called to Irohazaka last night to pick up a car. From the copy of the report I was able to obtain, it was a white Roadster. Your challenger apparently blew his motor while racing against Kyouichi Sudo on Irohazaka. Has he called to cancel his battle with you?" Ryosuke asked.

"No, he hasn't. I don't think he has my phone number though, he just knows about the gas station and getting a message to me through Itsuki."

"I would see if your friend has a message from him. If he cancels the battle, don't worry, but if he goes ahead at the scheduled time, prepare yourself."

Itsuki looked up happily from his work when he heard the distinctive sound of the AE86 pulling into the gas station.

"Takumi!" he shouted, running over to greet his friend. Takumi got out of the car and looked around before walking over to Itsuki.

"Takumi, you just missed him," Itsuki said.

"Missed who?"

"Itsuto, your challenger. He came by to give me a message for you. Here it is," he said, handing over a slip of paper. Takumi read the note quickly, then crumpled it up angrily.

"What's wrong?"

"He asks if I would consider battling in a different car. He says he had to do some work to his own and suggests that the hachi-roku isn't up to the challenge," Takumi said in a furious voice, throwing the paper to the ground and grinding it under his foot. Itsuki looked at his friend with concern.

"Takumi, you were able to take down many difficult opponents with your hachi-roku, but you've told me before that the damage it's received has been pretty severe. Maybe you need to start racing another car and save your hachi-roku for only the most difficult opponents," Itsuki suggested. Takumi froze, then turned around and looked at Itsuki.

"Itsuki, that's a very good idea. I shouldn't waste the remaining life of my car on these pointless races. Maybe I can even find a way to properly rebuild the 86 and get all its strength back. Can you give him a message for me?"

"Of course," Itsuki said.

"Tell him that I'm only using my hachi-roku for real racing, and ask him if he minds if I use another car for our battle."

"What car are you going to use?" Itsuki asked.

"The Impreza."

Itsuto laid down his wrench, wiped the sweat out of his eyes, and looked at Itsuki as he stood there in the doorway.

"Come in or come out, but don't stand there," Itsuto growled. Itsuki stepped in and looked at the Roadster in awe.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Fixing things. I scuffed it a little bit when I was practicing last night. Why are you here?"

"Takumi wanted to send you a message. He's going to bring a different car tomorrow."

"A different car, huh? So he took my warning?" Itsuto said with pride.

"No, he just doesn't want to use the AE86," Itsuki said, considerably damping Itsuto's mood. He growled and turned back to his car, carefully wrenching on something near the engine.

"I heard you had an engine blow," Itsuki said, trying to start a new conversation.

"I did."

"Is that engine the same one?" he asked.

"No."

"What did you do to it?" Itsuki asked. Itsuto sighed, set down the wrench, and turned to him.

"Are you here to run recon? Are you here to spy on me for your friend?" Itsuto growled, ready to strike him down.

"No! I just really like cars," Itsuki whimpered.

"Oh, well, in that case... Come here, take a look. You see this shiny new engine? I've had this on the shelf for the whole winter. My friend put it together for me. It's a strong iron block with a bearing plate and lots of nice reinforcements. The head has been ported and polished, with stock camshafts so it can still use the S-VT valve timing. The important piece though, is right here," he said, patting his hand on a large object bolted to the cylinder head.

"What is it?" Itsuki asked curiously.

"This is a supercharger."

"Supercharger? Nice! I know a Levin with a supercharger, it was strong enough to battle Keisuke's FD."

"Hmm. Do you know what he's going to be driving?" Itsuto asked.

"Not really, no," Itsuki said, lying through his teeth.

"Well, I'm stuck with the stock rev limiter and just a little bit of boost, but I think that what I've got will be enough to take down your friend. No offense, Itsuki, but defeating your friend Fujiwara just about guarantees me a racing sponsorship."

"No offense taken," Itsuki said. "He's incredible. I wish I could be as good as him myself."

"You could one day," Itsuto replied. "With training, I'm sure that you could improve. What do you think makes Fujiwara so strong?"

"Time," Itsuki said. "He's been driving for years and years, his father made him deliver tofu ever since he was twelve years old. He's driven up and down Mt. Akina in his hachi-roku for years, every day, in all weather. He mastered drift in one year's time, and because his father made him carry a cup of water with him he became very smooth. He knows all sorts of tricks and skills thanks to Takahashi Ryosuke."

"So I've heard," Itsuto said sourly. "Listen, Itsuki... what would you do if I told you that I could get you on a team where you'd get training like Fujiwara?"

"Really?!" Itsuki cried, excited.

"Yes, really. You just do me a favor, and then I'll get you on the team."

"What's the favor?" he asked. Itsuto smiled. He had him hook, line, and sinker.

"Find out what kind of car Fujiwara is driving tomorrow night, and tell me. Give me some time to make a plan. Maybe let me know a weakness of his. You see, Itsuki, that Fujiwara already has the skills to go pro, but you and I aren't quite there yet. We need that little boost, and defeating him is the best way to do that. Together we could be fastest downhill team in Gunma, with a little practice, and teaching from Kyouichi."

"The Evo III driver?" Itsuki cried. Itsuto nodded.

"Well," Itsuki said nervously, "the truth is that I do know what car it is."

"Tell me," Itsuto demanded, stepping closer.

"It's... it's a Subaru Impreza, with a high-rev naturally aspirated two liter engine." Itsuto leaned back, confused.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Itsuki said shakily, tears running down his face. "I'm sorry for betraying you, Takumi," he whispered under his breath.

"Why naturally aspirated?" Itsuto asked, scratching his head.

"You mean you don't know?" Itsuki said, shocked.

"No, I don't. I just know about his AE86."

"Then you know his hachi-roku revs to 12,000 RPMs, right? It makes two hundred and fifty horsepower, but not a lot of torque. It's only a 1.6 liter, you know."

"I know that, but why the Subaru?"

"The Subaru is his wet weather car, he only uses it when he battles in the winter. Because he doesn't use it a lot he wanted it to be as much like his regular car as possible, so that's why he uses the naturally aspirated engine. It doesn't rev as high, or make as much power since it's the Subaru engine. It only makes two hundred horsepower, and the car doesn't handle as well. The all wheel drive makes it turn wide of the corners, leaving the inside open. It's a good car though."

Itsuto nodded slowly, digesting the information. He had heard rumors of Fujiwara in a blue Subaru coupe, but he had never heard of it being raced. It would make sense to make the Subaru as similar to the AE86 as possible, to lessen the shock of going from one vehicle to another. The wide turns made sense as well, considering that most all wheel drive cars were somewhat prone to understeer.

"Good job, Itsuki. I know it feels like you've betrayed your friend, but don't think of it like that. If he's as good as everyone says he is, he'll still win. I'd just like to make it as challenging as possible for him," Itsuto said with a chuckle.

Itsuki sniffled and rubbed his eyes, then looked up again.

"If you say so," he said, wiping away another tear.

"So I told him that you drove a naturally aspirated Impreza that can't turn well," Itsuki said proudly. Takumi fell to the floor, unable to believe he was still talking to his idiot friend who used to cry out over a bird making a mess of his car.

"Itsuki, you've done an incredible job. How did you do that?"

"Well," he said bashfully, "since I'm not as skilled at driving, I tried to learn how to be smart in other ways. I hope I did well."

"You did well, Itsuki. Very well, I'm impressed." Takumi couldn't believe it, but it was a lucky chance, one in a million.

"So what did he do to his car?" Takumi asked.

"Supercharger. I didn't notice an intercooler, so it must be light boost. It was mounted on the cold side of the engine, so it replaces the intake manifold and has less throttled volume for faster response. I like it, but he did a lot of work to the engine as well, which makes me wonder why there's no intercooler. He may not have installed it yet," Itsuki said, pulling a slip of paper out of his pocket.

"What's that?" Takumi asked.

"Notes. He's got the original tachometer still installed, but he did mention something about building up the engine, so I'm guessing it can spin to 8,000 RPMs. That engine doesn't make much power anyway, so revving it up is more for getting more speed in the corners than in a search for power. Suspension work up front, some adjustable coilovers, and I think I saw some painted carbon fiber parts. He spent a lot of money, Takumi," Itsuki said.

"Hmm. You did an excellent job, Itsuki, I really am impressed. Would you like me to talk to Keisuke and see if one of the Red Suns can give you some training?" Itsuki's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Yeah!" he shouted.

"Anyway," Takumi said, "I'm off to see Ryosuke for my last meeting before the race. I'll mention it to him for you."

"Bye, Takumi, see you tomorrow," Itsuki said.

Takumi sat down for the last time in the diner and looked at Ryosuke.

"So, tell me what you know," Takahashi said.

"He's driving a supercharged Roadster and I'm driving the Impreza," Takumi answered. Ryosuke's eyebrows arched upwards slightly.

"No more hachi-roku?"

"I took the advice of a friend and I'm saving it for my most difficult battles. If the car's already weakened, I don't want to ruin it by racing against someone like this," Takumi said.

"A wise idea."

"Thanks. Ryosuke, what would fix my hachi-roku?" Takumi asked. Ryosuke sighed, casting his memory back on Fumihiro's latest damage assessment.

"New factory sheetmetal. We'd need to rebuild your hachi from the firewall forward. Frame rails, core support, tie bar, the whole thing. We can't go junkyard or pull them off another car because we'll still be dealing with weakened metal. New strut mounts, engine cradle, basically everything from the firewall forward. Of course Toyota hasn't made the AE86 for quite some time now, and I don't think they have any of the factory body repair panels left. Maybe you should just find a lower mileage AE86 and transfer the parts over, junk the shell."

"I don't want to do that," Takumi said. "That car made me what I am, it deserves better than that. If I can't fix it I'll just set it aside and use it only against my greatest opponents. Maybe in time someone will find some repair panels for it and I can rebuild the car."

"Maybe. In the meantime, tell me more about this Impreza."

"You've seen it before. I used it against you when you challenged Keisuke and me with your FC. I didn't really know how to race it then. I do now though," Takumi said confidently. Ryosuke stiffened as the memory came back to him of the unstoppable, incredible blue Impreza that had devoured his FC on the downhill of Akina, and how the only way he had to win was to sacrifice his cherished FC. It was a real monster of a car, powerful and stable.

"Do you want any advice for your race?" Ryosuke asked. Takumi nodded.

"Don't understimate him. Run as hard as you can and don't look back. Don't show mercy, don't show sympathy, no matter what happens. Crush him, or you will lose."

"What's up, aniki?" Keisuke asked as he rolled into the driveway at home, surprised to see his brother outside working under the hood of the FC.

"Trying to get my mind off of Fujiwara's race," Ryosuke replied, wiping a smear of grease off his cheek as he straightened up, stretching and popping his back.

"Why? Is it really that bad?" Keisuke asked, peering under the FC's hood at what his brother was doing.

"I don't know for sure, and it's driving me insane. I've never seen someone who can be so manipulative and hard to pin down as this challenger. I haven't gotten a solid idea of his skill level, and somehow Sudo has been pulled into this mess as well."

"The Evo III driver?" Keisuke asked in shock.

"Yes, as a mentor for the challenger, who was also able to get Fujiwara to race not his AE86, but his father's Impreza. Tell me now, otouto, how that appears to you?" Ryosuke asked, shutting the hood of his FC and pulling out his keys.

"It sounds dangerous. Are you going for a drive?"

"Yeah. Want to come?"

"Yes," Keisuke said, getting into the passenger seat of the FC. Ryosuke started up the engine and let it idle until it was warm before depressing the throttle gently, bringing the revs up slowly before letting off the throttle and letting the car go back to idle.

"What are you doing?" Keisuke asked.

"Warming up," Ryosuke replied. Keisuke sighed and rolled his eyes before the FC suddenly exploded into motion, screaming forward out of the driveway and out onto the street, running for Mt. Akagi as fast as the light traffic would allow. The white FC rocketed up Akagi as fast as Ryosuke's skills would allow, the g-forces turning Keisuke green. At the top of the peak Ryosuke pulled the emergency brake and spun around, aimed his car downhill, and looked at his brother.

"If you're going to vomit, aim out the window. If you miss, you'll be cleaning it up." The FC revved up again and began its attack, hurtling down Mt. Akagi faster than it had before, tires begging for mercy. Keisuke's eyes opened wide, unable to believe his brother was faster than he was before.

"How is it possible you can keep getting faster?" Keisuke asked. "There are physical limits to how much grip a car will generate and how much horsepower it will make. I thought you hit that limit long ago."

"Perfection is hard to attain. There are a number of corners on any course. It takes practice and skill as well as memory to drive well on any course. The human mind is limited. I can reach perfection on half of the corners one day, and half another day, but I'm still working hard in order to get all of the corners all of the time. Once I can do that, then I can say I'm fast. Then you can say I'm maxed out," Ryosuke said with a grin, shaving one corner so close that the front inside wheel ran over the curbing and helped spin the FC out just enough to shoot through the next corner flat out.

"What would you say is the key point of Fujiwara's battle with the Roadster?" Keisuke asked, his knuckles turning white as he gripped whatever he could find to brace himself, his feet desperately searching for a brake pedal.

"There are three key points which Fujiwara hasn't had to deal with on this level before. The first is his opponent's level of manipulation and mindgames. He was able to put Fujiwara in a different car through words and suggestion, which means that he believes there's an advantage there and he means to exploit it. The second key point will be tire wear. The all wheel drive Impreza that Fujiwara is using is stable, and can deal with tire wear without suffering a degradation of handling abilities. The Roadster cannot. The challenger will be driving all out, with the intent of winning on the first round. His rear tires will be under wear from his horsepower and any drifting, while his front tires will be used up by braking and turning. It isn't as bad as in a front wheel drive vehicle, but if Fujiwara drags this out to a second round, the Roadster will have to drift exclusively in order to keep up."

"And the third key point?" Keisuke asked.

"The third key point..." Ryosuke said, falling silent as he tackled a particularly difficult section of corners, the FC screaming through sideways. As he hit the brakes, Ryosuke's eyes opened wide as he realized the true third point.

"Weight. The Roadster weighs around 1000 kilograms, while the Subaru weighs around 1235 kilos. The Impreza has a significant weight disadvantage. Braking, acceleration, handling, all of it is dulled in comparison. Tire wear is accelerated as well, in comparison to a lighter opponent. Fujiwara has spent almost his entire racing career driving a lighter car and using its weight as a weapon, and the times when it has been used against him by a competent opponent he has almost lost. You remember the EA11R battle. If it wasn't for the rain, he would have lost. I don't know if 235 kilograms is enough to give the Roadster a fair shot, but on a twisting road like Irohazaka it's a definite advantage. The challenger's skill is deadly."

"What makes him so deadly?" Keisuke asked. He could appreciate the abilities of light weight as it had been used against him time and time again, but the drivers he had battled weren't as perversely skilled as Fujiwara's.

"When you dive into a corner, what steps do you take?" Ryosuke asked.

"Brakes, downshift, turn, accelerate," Keisuke said.

"Exactly. On the street, we can space out our steps, giving the tires a moment where all of the available grip is being used to turn. In autocross, there is no time to space out the steps, so the best drivers figure out how to turn sharply with less than maximum grip. Using that technique on the street, Takumi's challenger will dive deeply into every corner, braking at the last possible second for as short as possible before getting back on the throttle. He'll move his foot from one pedal to the other, or even use his heel for one and toes for the other, eliminating any delay in switching over from braking to acceleration. Combined with the lighter weight of his Roadster, Takumi's challenger is formidable."

"Do you think he'll win?" Keisuke asked.

"If he does win, then my training was successful. If he loses, I have nothing more to say to Fujiwara Takumi."

"Dad!" Takumi shouted, walking into the darkened house. It wasn't looking good. The hachi-roku was missing which was normal enough on a Saturday night, but the Subaru was still sitting outside. Unfortunately there were only two sets of keys, one in Bunta's pocket and the other hidden. On an intuition, Takumi picked up a bottle of sake and saw the dull gleam of steel hiding in the cupboard. Pulling the key out he walked outside to the blue Subaru and kneeled down in front of it, reaching out with his hand and placing it on the hood.

"I'm going to race you tonight. I know that we haven't battled before, but you have shown me your great potential with all of the training. But I'm afraid," he admitted, letting his head hang down.

"I'm afraid to use you because of how easy you'll make this battle. You have the advantage of horsepower, torque, traction, and stability. I can drive you harder than the hachi-roku, and I don't have to worry about you breaking under the stress. You're strong and powerful. I just hope that Itsuto shows up."

"Excuse me, Mr. Masaru, but is this your vehicle?" the police officer asked, leaning over Itsuto's head and looking into the open cockpit of the convertible.

"Yes it is. Why?" Itsuto asked, confused.

"Your license plate expired almost a year ago, and the vehicle is registered in the name of a Mazda dealer, not you. I'm going to ask you to remain in the vehicle," the officer said, disappearing. Itsuto swore on the inside but kept his calm, and it was difficult to do it. With his heart thudding inside his chest hard enough to burst through his ribs, Itsuto suddenly began to laugh.

"Here's your paperwork back... sir, why are you laughing?" the officer asked.

"No reason. I'm sorry," Itsuto responded, behaving quietly through the rest of the ordeal. Soon to be thirty thousand yen poorer, he drove off and began to laugh again. Pulled over for an expired tag on the way to an illegal street race, it made him laugh until the tears streaked down his cheeks.

At the peak of Irohazaka a strange crowd was beginning to gather. Nakazato and Sayuki in their fearsome R34, Mako and Iketani in their Nissans, Itsuki and his torquey hachi-go shared space with the Takahashi brothers of the rotary engine and the Emperor of Irohazaka himself. Takumi had long since arrived in his father's blue Impreza, and they were waiting, impatiently, for the challenger to show up.

"This is the base, he's on the way," crackled the radio in Sudo's hand.

"Late arrival. Familiar, Fujiwara?" Ryosuke asked, leaning on the door of the Subaru and feeling the vibrations of its engine through his arm.

"Very," Takumi laughed, blipping the throttle to keep himself occupied. The white Roadster finally arrived, and there was a murmur from the crowd as Itsuto got out of the car with his cheeks glistening with tears.

"Something wrong?" Takumi asked, leaning out of his window to make eye contact. Itsuto wiped his face with the back of his hand and smiled.

"Just that you haven't lost yet. Are you good for fuel? I didn't mean to keep you waiting for so long," Itsuto said apologetically.

"That's okay. Ready to race?"

"Yeah, let's line up. Do you have any preferences?"

"Not particularly," Takumi said. "I'd like to let things take care of themselves. Each car and each driver has to be given a chance to show their true abilities. No sense in limiting that with arbitrary rules." Itsuto nodded and returned to his car.

"Racers, are you ready?" Iketani shouted, making eye contact with both drivers. Both nodded, and the countdown began.

"Go! Shi! San! Ni! Ichi! GO!" The Roadster's rear tires erupted into smoke before catching enough traction to violently catapult the car forward, while the Subaru bellowed and screamed before taking off in hot pursuit. At the end of the short straight the Subaru was in the lead, its horsepower advantage and traction getting the better of the lightweight rear wheel drive convertible. Takumi pressed the brake pedal hard, feeling the massive brakes slowing the blue coupe down as he prepared to dive into the turn. To his surprise the white Roadster shot past him with no brakes, waiting until the last possible second to tap the brakes and hurtle through the corner, passing the Subaru with complete ease.

"How?" Takumi asked, momentarily stunned. Being passed at the first corner was humiliating, especially in such a powerful machine as the Impreza. The galleries were shocked as well, recoiling in fear as the Roadster sliced through the corner mere centimeters from the guardrail.

"Ryosuke was right, this guy is dangerous," Takumi said, settling into chase mode. The Roadster's approach to the corners was very different from his own. While the Subaru took a decent amount of time to slow down before approaching, giving its tires full grip for cornering, the Mazda didn't brake until it was either right at the beginning of the turn or even halfway through, carrying far more speed into every corner, relying on its much lighter weight to shorten its braking distances. Once the tight hairpins began to arrive, it got even worse.

"I may have to jump to stay in the game," Takumi said, surprised. At every hairpin the Roadster was gaining another two or even three meters, putting the Subaru farther and farther behind.

"Ryosuke mentioned driving like Sudo, keeping up during the corners and passing on the straight. I don't want to win like that," Takumi said. "If this were Project D I would listen and drive as he wanted me to, but this isn't Project D anymore. This is my own personal battle. If I want to overtake him in the turns, I can," he said, downshifting and stepping hard on the throttle to whip the Subaru around the hairpin, all four tires screaming for traction. Itsuto glanced in his rearview mirror for a moment when he saw how large the Impreza suddenly became as it bore down on him, felt a momentary rise of panic, and then resolutely calmed himself. There was no point in getting scared just yet. "Alright Fujiwara, try and keep up," he said cockily, burying his foot to the floor.

"I didn't want to go to these extremes in order to win, but you've forced me into it. One of the reasons I forced you into that Impreza is so you would be burdened with extra weight, which is what allows me to use this as a tactic. Moments before I hit the apex in every corner I go to full throttle, relying on the understeer created by my big front swaybar and the traction from my grippy tires to keep the car from spinning out. Because I spend more time at full throttle and I have a lighter car, I exit the corners faster and put more distance on you during the short straights even though you have a more powerful car. Not only do you have to deal with turbocharger lag, something that my supercharger doesn't have, but you also have to deal with the weight of your car. Before you've truly begun to accelerate you have to hit the brakes again. Your brake rotors don't appreciate it, Fujiwara. They'll grow hotter and hotter with every turn, and they'll begin to degrade. You'll have to start slowing down sooner, which will make you angrier and more reckless. I've got you right where I want you."

As Takumi hit the brakes yet again he noticed that the pedal felt a little softer under his foot.

"What's happening?" he asked, surprised at the feeling. With every application of the brake pedal he was heating up the pads and rotors, as well as the brake fluid. The rotors could only absorb so much heat before they began to lose effectiveness, and once that point was reached the brake fluid could boil, breaking down and introducing air into the system. If that happened he could stand on the pedal as hard as he wanted, but the effort would be used to compress the air first before applying the brakes, killing his response time and slowing him down.

"I wanted to win this race honorably," Takumi said as his hand reached out, "but I still want to win it. Let's see how good you are, Itsuto," he growled as he switched off the Subaru's headlights. It was suicide to attempt it on Irohazaka where there were so few places to pass, but it had to be done. As the Roadster screamed through another hairpin, Takumi hit the emergency brake and then buried the throttle, jumping the Impreza.

"I hope this works."

"So, Ryosuke, you grace my home course with your presence yet again," Sudo said coldly, staring at his old rival. Takahashi bowed his head slightly and returned to his laptop. With the information from the corner workers streaming in over the radio he was able to constantly update and improve his model of the race, and it was turning out to be truly incredible. Fujiwara had attempted a flying lights-off blind attack with the Impreza even though he had never tried it before.

"The battle must be intense. I wish I were there," Ryosuke murmured. Keisuke nodded and laughed to himself.

"Any battle of his is intense. I'm surprised you didn't try following them down Irohazaka, aniki."

"I didn't feel like interrupting their rhythm. With a course like this and such mismatched cars, any additional outside interference is just asking for unnecessary trouble."

"How do you mean? Fujiwara seems to have the upper hand."

"It would seem so from any quick look. The Subaru has more traction, more power, more stability, while the Roadster has less traction, less power, less stability. As I'm sure you know, because of the light weight of the Roadster the challenger can brake later, saving his brakes and reducing the wear on his tires. Fujiwara is battling with a 234 kilogram weight disadvantage, using a heavier car that he isn't used to driving in."

"I still don't see why that's so bad," Keisuke said. "He's Fujiwara, he can make it work. He always has before."

"Yes, he has, but in the AE86. I'm not sure of how much training he's undertaken in the Impreza, but I hope it's enough to know that it can't be driven the same way."

"What do you mean, aniki?"

"On Mt. Akina, because of the corners there, he could brake the same as he does in the AE86 without causing any issues. From what I saw the rotors were upgraded to be larger, and were also slotted to remove any incandescent material off the pads, which should help battle brake fade, which will in turn give him some leeway. On Irohazaka, for the Impreza braking suddenly becomes something very different, when the weight of the Subaru becomes more noticeable and brake fade rears its head. If he continues to brake as he does in the AE86, he will overheat his brakes, cook his brake fluid, and reduce his braking abilities dramatically," Ryosuke said, entering more information into the computer as the radios continued to scream about the incredible battle raging its way down the mountain.

"How can he win then?" Keisuke asked. "On a course like Irohazaka, the hairpins are determined by who can brake better and negotiate the turns faster."

"This is very true. If the Subaru is to win on Irohazaka, it cannot be on the hairpins. It must be a counterattack starting on the second bridge. From there the slope and the hairpins will be minimized, leaving the Roadster wide open to attack. Because of the small size of the car, he won't be able to effectively block Fujiwara's path either, reducing it to an acceleration and grip contest to see who will be able to cross the third bridge first."

"In that case the Subaru should win, right aniki? It has the grip of all wheel drive, and wider tires as well. It should make it well ahead of the Roadster."

"It should, but unless Fujiwara dramatically changes his driving style, it won't," Ryosuke said darkly.

"What?!"

"In the proper hands that Subaru is incredible. I've seen it with my own eyes, driven by a true god, and if you remember I had to destroy my FC in order to win by the skin of my teeth. Incredible braking, handling, acceleration... Fujiwara can drive it, but he hasn't reached the same level with the Impreza as he has with the AE86. I had hoped on him being able to learn the rhythm of the car quicker, but he hasn't. As much as I would like to see him win, unless he can keep up until the bridges he will lose."

"Aniki, I don't understand. Why is this battle so desperate?" Keisuke asked, unable to comprehend his brother's dire words.

"The battle is desperate because of stability, Keisuke."

"Stability?"

"Mm. I thought it would be decided by weight, but although it has a large force in this battle, stability is what will finish it. The Impreza is inherently stable, allowing the use of full throttle before the apex of the turn. Fujiwara knows this and his driving style is slightly different in order to utilize this advantage of the all wheel drive, but he hasn't mastered it. The Roadster is inherently unstable, tuned for response. It has difficulty maintaining a straight line, but as soon as the wheel is turned it responds. Fujiwara has to overcome the stability of the Impreza before it can use that input to change direction. And I worry about his drivetrain," Ryosuke added.

"Drivetrain?"

"Yes. The Subaru all wheel drive system is unique. There's a differential for the rear axles, a differential between the rear axle and the front axle, and then a differential for the front axles. You have to overcome drivetrain loss, as well as understeer. Why else do you think that Impreza has been tuned so much to dial out understeer? With all its tuning tricks it's roughly as balanced as the AE86 was before we got our hands on it. I'm afraid that with its drivetrain's natural characteristics, it won't be able to cut as close a line as the Roadster."

"So your fear then, is that it will understeer at a critical moment and lose the race?"

"There will come a point in this race where the Roadster will oversteer and the Impreza will understeer, and that will decide the winner."

Takumi was beginning to get frustrated. Pushing hard on the brakes resulted in a spongy feeling and a half second delay before the big calipers grabbed the hot rotors, slowing down the Impreza for the next hairpin, while his challenger was able to tap the brakes and fly through each corner, balancing the understeer with plenty of throttle in order to whip through with the least amount of delay. It was both impressive and frustrating to watch the skill of his opponent as he transitioned instantly from braking to accelerating, turning the entire time. It was almost as if he were using more grip than the tires gave him, which probably explained why the rear of the Roadster oversteered a little bit on each corner.

"He's using the full grip of the front tires to brake and initiate the turn, while using the rears to accelerate the car, knowing that by asking too much from the rear tires they'll slide, which helps him complete the turn," Takumi said, deciphering the performance in front of him.

"Let's see if I can do the same," he said, diving into the corner as hot as he dared with the brakes in such bad shape. The Impreza's front end pushed wide of the corner, almost scraping the guardrail. Angry, Takumi attempted again on the next hairpin, with much the same results.

"I don't get it! This car runs so well for that shitty old man, why won't it drive well for me?" he moaned, punching the brakes hard. The rear tires locked up and sent the Subaru into a spin, one that Takumi instantly used to scream around the hairpin corner, his foot burying the throttle to the floor in the hopes that the all wheel drive would find some traction and shoot him forward. To his great surprise and happiness, it did, devouring three meters of dead space between the two cars.

"You have better brakes than the hachi-roku, but I haven't been using them properly," Takumi realized. The Subaru growled, trying to make up the gap between it and the Roadster, a gap that was now almost a full set of corners long. As the Impreza rounded one corner, the Roadster was already rounding the second, headed for the next short straight.

Takumi kept the throttle buried, relying on the engine's responsiveness to spool up the turbo as quickly as it could. Moments before hitting the hairpin he downshifted without rev-matching, using the kick from the transmission to help the overheated brakes slow the car and putting the Impreza into a tight drift around the hairpin, burying the throttle as soon as he dared to help the car claw out of the hole. The Subaru responded well enough, taking the abuse to its drivetrain without complaint as it slowly began to reel in the fleeing Roadster.

"If I can just keep this up, I only have fifteen more hairpins to go before we can reach the more open part of the course," Takumi said, trying to think of another way to save his brakes. Approaching the hairpin he dumped the car into second, using the Subaru's heavy drivetrain mass slow the car while he yanked on the emergency brake handle, spinning the rear around before flooring the throttle and jumping. The Impreza landed with a heavy crash and a shower of sparks, but it had gained a meter.

Itsuto glanced in his rearview mirror and felt like swearing. That abnormal flash of lights, then their sudden descent and the accompanying shower of sparks meant that Fujiwara was jumping the Impreza, slowly eating away at his lead. If he got too much closer the more open part of the course would result in his death, and that couldn't happen. Even though the supercharged Roadster made 240 horsepower and a decent amount of torque, its instant response would be nullified once the Subaru's turbo had a chance to spin up and produce its full amount of boost. That was one of the many blessings of the hairpin corners, keeping the Subaru out of boost almost the entire time, bringing its effective horsepower far down, and the drivetrain loss eating even more until a piddling amount of power actually made it to the wheels. Whether he knew it or not, Fujiwara was fighting against the Roadster with a heavier car that was, for the moment, making far less power.

"I need to gain as much as possible before the course turns against me. I'm sorry, but I have to do this," he said, apologizing to his Roadster. With an inward sigh he buried the throttle and forced his mind to forget about the agony he was about to inflict on his brake rotors. Takumi's eyes went wide as he saw the Roadster spurt ahead, lunging forward almost uncontrollably. The little white convertible shot ahead and then slammed on the brakes, rotating while going to full throttle. At the next hairpin the Roadster cut the corner, not quite jumping but not quite following the proper line either, adopting the cheating line that Kyouichi had shown Itsuto. It was easier on the car since it didn't have to absorb the shock of a full drop, but it was faster than drifting around the corner and it was enough to send the Roadster out of sight within two more hairpins.

"This is corner 39! The Roadster is ahead by five hairpins!" Ryosuke looked at the radio and updated his laptop's model, shaking his head as he did so.

"The Roadster is more compact than the AE86. Because of its size, technical footwork is its main weapon. Every driving style is based on entering the corner as fast as possible, but Itsuto's previous races have been focused on slow in, fast out. These hairpins favor his driving style more than Fujiwara's, and as I've said before, the Roadster's lighter weight lets it get away with more before overheating its brakes to the point of no recovery. If he's driving the line Kyouichi used to set his record time, the only chance Fujiwara has for success will be the second and third bridge where he can use the power to his advantage and the weight becomes less of a handicap. That's his only remaining chance, and in order to succeed there he has to bring the Roadster's lead down to two hairpin turns. Anything more than that and I doubt he'll be able to win," Ryosuke said.

"Aniki, do you think that Fujiwara can make it?" Keisuke asked.

"This time, Keisuke, I really don't know. I've taught him everything that I can. He's ridden with the Sorcerer of the One Handed Steer. He's defeated every opponent that's come up against him. But all of that was done with his hachi-roku. By all logical reasoning, the Impreza should win, but Fujiwara is holding onto how he drove the AE86. He needs to forget everything he knew about the hachi-roku and drive the Impreza for what it is. Until he can do that, I think he'll lose."

"Ryosuke-san, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I've just gotten an important message," Fumihiro said, stepping close with his cell phone in his hand.

"What's wrong, Fumihiro? You're pale," Ryosuke said, concerned for his right hand man.

"News from Ibaraki, Ryosuke. Purple Shadow just suffered a massive defeat."

"Was it one of their regular drivers, or one of the Gods?" Ryosuke asked.

"Hoshino, God Foot, was defeated in a battle like Keisuke-san's, a full lap uphill and down again. It was a slaughter. The challenger was already a third of the way downhill by the time Hoshino reached the peak," Fumihiro said in a shocked voice, relaying the information coming in over his cell phone.

"Who is that on the other line?"

"Matsumoto," Fumihiro replied as he handed over the phone.

"Matsumoto-san, tell me what's going on over there," Ryosuke asked, walking a short distance away to hear better. Keisuke, noticing his brother's surprised and somewhat agitated face, walked over to Fumihiro.

"What's going on Hiroshi?" he asked.

"Keisuke, Matsumoto was in Ibaraki watching Purple Shadow taking on a new challenger. Whoever it was, he was good enough for God Foot and God Arm to appear to battle him. God Foot challenged him to a battle similar to your own, uphill and down, and lost badly. When I handed the phone over to your brother, Joushima was lining up for revenge."

"Who was this challenger? What was he driving?" Keisuke asked, shocked. His battle with Hoshino's menacing R34 had exhausted his skills to the utmost, and to think of someone with enough skill to defeat Hoshino halfway through the course...

"Fumihiro, what was he driving?" Keisuke repeated angrily.

"A panda Trueno with a carbon fiber hood and black wheels," Ryosuke answered, snapping the phone shut and walking back to join his brother.

"A panda Trueno with a carbon fiber hood? That sounds like Fujiwara's car," Keisuke said.

"That's because it was," Ryosuke said grimly.

"Fujiwara's AE86 was able to defeat an R34 GT-R that I barely won against?!?" Keisuke cried in shock, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

"That's because it was driven by a Fujiwara."

Takumi shifted down again, using the heavy jerk to slow the car and give the brakes another chance to rest. The feel was beginning to come back to them, but it wouldn't do to overcook them again.

"Now that I can't see him, this is a lot easier," he admitted, jumping the Impreza once more. Four hairpins ahead of him, Itsuto was feeling relieved as well. The Roadster was holding up to the abuse well considering its small frame, and with the Impreza completely out of sight Itsuto began to feel the slight stirrings of triumph.

"I won't admit victory so soon," he said, "since that will only cost me in the long run. I need to push on, make as big a gap as I can while the conditions still favor me. I've only got four hairpins left before the straights." The Roadster dove deep into the next hairpin, hitting the brakes hard at the last possible moment, Itsuto's hands sending the wheel flying in the other direction as he stepped on the throttle, burying it deep. The Roadster's front tires gripped hard, and with the strong kick from behind Itsuto felt himself swing through the hairpin at the very grip limit of his tires.

The next three hairpins continued the same way, each one another neck-straining wave of g-forces and screaming tires as his 1.8 liter engine bellowed and snorted, rocketing him downhill. Cautiously at first and then with reckless abandon he began accelerating at the apex of each hairpin, then slightly before, until he reached the final hairpin and was able to make it through barely lifting off the throttle. The long straight opened up, and Itsuto settled into a top speed run that would decide the winner.

"I just have to make it to the third bridge," he said, shifting from second into third at 7250 RPMs, then from third into fourth, keeping the needle right at 140 kilometers per hour, as high as he dared to go on such a road. With his heart bursting in terror, Itsuto clung to the wheel with white-knuckled hands and buried his instinct for self-preservation.

Takumi jumped the Impreza over the final hairpin and immediately went to full throttle. To his surprise the previously lethargic car burst forward with vicious, vision-blurring speed as it catapulted him forward toward his last chance to overtake. Barreling down the straight he shifted from second into third, and then into fourth, his mind focused on one thing and one thing only, overtaking the Roadster.

"I think I understand why I fell so far behind," he said as the Subaru hummed with power, rocketing him toward destiny.

"Aniki, why did Fujiwara fall so far behind?" Keisuke asked.

"You should know, Keisuke. You drive a turbocharged car. You tell me," Ryosuke responded in his typical aloof manner.

"Well, on my FD if I let go of the throttle the turbochargers lose boost, but when I return to full throttle they quickly build it back up again. When I raced against Kyoko and her single turbo RX-7, I was able to win by... oh."

"So you see then?" Ryosuke asked.

"Yes. Because the Impreza has a single turbo, the endless hairpins of Irohazaka keep his engine out of boost, essentially making it a 2.0 liter non-turbo."

"Correct, to a point. The STi motor has lower-compression pistons than a naturally-aspirated engine would, so without boost it makes even less horsepower. Coupled with the drivetrain loss from the all wheel drive and its three differentials, and Fujiwara was fighting against a car that was not only lighter than his, but made more power."

"How could you fix that?" Keisuke asked.

"Well, there are a number of ways. Keeping a single turbo design you could install a smaller turbo that would spool up quicker, but that would hurt top horsepower. I haven't heard of anyone converting to a twin turbo setup, so we'll ignore that. You could install higher-compression pistons to make more power when out of boost, but again, that hurts overall horsepower since you wouldn't be able to run as much boost. The only solution I know of right now that would give a constant increase in response would be increasing engine displacement."

"How would you do that?" Keisuke asked.

"You could bore out the engine or stroke it with an aftermarket crank, or you could try finding a larger displacement boxer engine from another Subaru, put in some forged pistons, and go that way. A good upgrade for that car would be a 2.5 liter shortblock."

Takumi kept his foot to the floor and was rewarded with the flash of tail lights just disappearing around the corner up ahead. The Roadster was being reeled in! The first bridge flashed past with barely a warning, the Roadster slowly growing larger and larger as the seconds passed by. It was inevitable that a car with superior traction and 360 HP would be able to catch up to one pushing a mere 240 HP, no matter the skill involved. Fujiwara felt a twinge of regret in his chest but kept his foot to the floor.

Itsuto glanced in his rearview mirror and cursed. The second straight was just as long if not more so, with a slight hump at the end of the bridge that would upset the balance of his car. He would have to take his foot off the throttle for just a moment to ensure he wouldn't spin the car, but it would slaughter his lead and force the final confrontation to occur on the third bridge rather than after. The two cars raced desperately down the straight, the Impreza gaining faster and faster on the Roadster as they rushed headlong toward the second bridge. The expansion joint on the far end of the bridge forced Itsuto to lift his foot for just a moment, momentarily reducing the power to the rear wheels. If he had kept his foot to the floor the slight bump from the expansion joint would have bounced the rear tires off the ground just enough for them to spin and for the Roadster to lose control. As it was Itsuto lost another eight meters of his lead, the Impreza growing larger and larger in his rearview mirror.

Coming around the corner Takumi saw the third bridge. There were a few gentle curves leading down the hill toward the bridge, and then the lanes merged. It would have to be soon or else he would lose, even after he had gotten so close. The two cars barreled down the road, the Impreza drawing up alongside. Takumi remembered his battle with Sudo and felt a moment of confusion.

"Should I take the inside or the outside?" he asked. With the AE86 he had taken the outside, relying on his lighter weight to make it through, but with the heavier Impreza it might drift outward. Resolutely he took the inside line, forcing the Impreza's nose in alongside the Roadster's curving rump.

"Turn!"

"So you're Fujiwara Takumi's father, huh?" Joushima asked. Bunta nodded, lighting a cigarette and taking a pull on it before replying.

"Yeah, I am. He mentioned you. Said you wanted to meet me."

"I did. I wanted to know who could train someone that young to have such skill. How did you do it? Why?" Toshiya asked.

"I won't say why, but I'll tell you how. I made him deliver tofu for me every morning since he was 12. He used the same car and delivered on the same route. After six months he began to drift the car, and in another six months he was able to make the car do it when he wanted to. After that it took a lot of careful manipulation to keep training him. The biggest trick was to get him to drive with a cup full of water," Bunta said.

"Water? Why?"

"To learn balance and smoothness. He used to come home soaking wet from spilling the cup, and it wasn't long before he learned how to drive without spilling. It helped him more than anything else. I used to keep track of his progress by checking his tires, but that group he was racing with kept switching too fast for any patterns to really establish themselves," Bunta said, taking another drag on the cigarette.

"In fact, there's one thing I was never satisfied with," Bunta added, looking at Joshima's battle-weary S2000.

"What's that?" God Arm asked.

"He should have lost to you."

"What do you mean?"

"He should have lost to you. He would have learned a better lesson that way than by winning on a technicality. Couldn't you have driven over the line and throw up out the window?" Bunta asked. Joshima sighed and shook his head.

"Isn't it enough that you beat me on my home course? Sorry, but I wouldn't ruin my interior for a simple win. You've seen my seats, they're not cheap."

"Hmm. Well, he learned something from you. I hope he learned enough."

The Roadster dove deep into the final turn, screaming over the bridge. Itsuto felt the rear tires beginning to give and the rear end beginning to slide out, but no amount of countersteer would save it. Takumi felt a short burst of happiness over choosing the inside line as it gave him more room to counteract the Impreza's understeer, but it evaporated when the Impreza's front bumper tapped the Roadster's door. Itsuto countersteered and feathered the throttle, but the expansion joint on the end of the bridge threw the rear tires up into the air, finishing the job and spinning out the Roadster. In one final act of desperation Itsuto jammed his gearbox into reverse, ignoring the destruction of his synchronizers and the gnashing teeth of his gears as he tried to pass over the finish line ahead of the Impreza.

The crowds screamed out in shock as the two cars, a white blur and a blue one, came shrieking over the finish line, their worn tires scrabbling for grip. The Roadster came to an abrupt halt in the drainage ditch on the far side of the road, while the Impreza rested in the ditch on the other side.

"Who won?!" Itsuto cried out, fighting against his harness as he tried to get out of his still-smoking car. Takumi opened the Impreza's door, shook his head, and checked over the Subaru for damage.

"I... I... I don't know," Kenta said, looking at the other Red Sun members manning the finish line. Kyouichi stepped forward, cell phone in hand. He opened it up and showed it to Itsuto first, then Takumi.

"It's so close," Takumi said.

"I can barely tell," Itsuto answered.

"Finish, this is start. Who won?!" the radio screamed, the whole mountain eagerly waiting to hear the answer. Kyouichi took the radio out of Kenta's hand and paused for a moment before pressing the button and speaking.

"Start, this is finish. Fujiwara Takumi... has won."

"So, how's your Roadster?" Takumi asked as they lingered behind, waiting for the tow truck that would pull their cars out of their respective ditches.

"Oh, I blew the transmission into a million pieces. Truth be told, I'm okay with that," Itsuto answered, sitting down cross-legged on the pavement and resting his back against the guardrail. Takumi followed suit, offering a can of soda. Itsuto popped open the top and drank deep, gulp after gulp, then wiped his mouth and sighed.

"I don't know if you can understand, but I think it's possible to modify a car too much and lose what makes it unique. I loved my car before the new engine and everything else, and I think I'd rather have it like it was than as it is now. Does that make sense?" he asked.

"Yeah, it makes perfect sense," Takumi replied quietly. Itsuto leaned back farther and sighed again, retreating inside himself.

"I mean, it's not that I don't like the performance. Everyone likes accelerating fast and braking faster, and the handling is always incredible. But it's so easy to build a car that's too powerful, too great handling, too strong for the street, you can never use it to its full potential or when you do you risk killing yourself. I mean, the exhaust I have on there now is great for horsepower and reducing weight, but it hurts my ears like crazy, I'm going deaf just from driving it for a few days."

"So you're going to return it to stock?"

"No, not quite. I'm going to keep most of the suspension pieces, but I'm going back to a less intense exhaust system so its nice and quiet, and I think I'll put the supercharger on the shelf for now. There's something about wringing all one hundred and fifty horses out, you know?" Itsuto said, draining the rest of his can.

"I know exactly what you mean," Takumi said, his AE86 looming large in his mind. If it hadn't been so built up, it would still be in drivable condition.

"Maybe I can take it apart, dumb it down," he mumbled, staring at the Impreza. The tow truck appeared, reeling the Impreza out of the ditch and hauling the shattered Roadster onto its back.

"Fujiwara, maybe we can meet again sometime and race our cars when they're a little closer to stock," Itsuto said as he leaned out of the truck's passenger window.

"See you next time," Takumi said, watching him drive away.


End file.
